Sometime back I was asked this question. In what way are you a “Why not” kind of person? I showered myself with accolades about being a “Why Not” sort of person, ready to chance new things. That was a lot of baloney!

Today I’m going to answer the “Why Not” question.

I’ll start with why I don’t ride a horse. The only time I ever sat on one, It lifted a back leg to dislodge flies that had landed on its rump. Scared me to death. I decided then and there I would only ride a horse if it kept all four feet on the ground.

Why not bake a pie? I tried when I was a newly wed. We lived on a college campus in a trailer house just adjacent to a pig pen. I made two pies. Took both of them to the pigs – I loved my husband too much to offer them to him. Guess I over-reacted. Pigs didn’t get sick.

And I won’t touch anything that looks like a button attached to something that will adjust. I tried it one time. Set my car seat to automatically adjust for a woman 6 feet 2 inches tall. I pushed cancel but now it will suit a 4 foot 5 inch person. I considered trying again to see what happens, but every time I reach for the button, my brain tells me, “Three strikes and you’re out.” So I’ll just play it safe and leave it where it is.

Actually I knew better than to try anything requiring an understanding of anything mechanical. I took a projector into an English class to show sentence diagramming. I couldn’t find the thing-a-ma-jig to turn it on. Some very bright student turned it on for me. He did it so quickly; he must have been an engineering student. The really bad thing about it was that it was the first day of class. They never did trust me to know about English. I don’t know why. One doesn’t have to know how to push a button in order to tell the difference in a predicate adjective and a predicate nominative.

When my husband went to England, he invited me along but I didn’t go. It’s not that I’m afraid of flying; I’m afraid of not flying. Like going down in the Atlantic. I can’t swim. I’ve tried to learn how. I’ve researched a lot of books, but they all start out as if I’m already in the Atlantic – or at least a backyard pool. I looked for one for beginners – one that begins in the bathtub. That would be a big step for me. I only take showers. It wouldn’t be reasonable to think I could begin in a shower, would it? I could hold my nose and stick my face in the shower head.

My family says not to worry. Fat floats and muscle sinks. I say, “Big deal. So my head goes down and my bottom goes up.” Some comfort! I don’t think so!

My husband used to try to help me when I started on a trip. He would always say “Let me check the oil.” Then he would say “Pull the hood latch.” I tried but the only thing that happens is that the brake light comes on. After a time or two, he would yell, “I said open the hood.” I yelled back, “I did but the light just comes on.” He would say, “I didn’t say the brake – pull the hood latch.” Now when I go on a trip, he just kisses me bye and tells me to stop at Lubby Lobby to get my car checked out. I don’t know why he sends me to them; he never did like those folks down there.

So, do you want more? I don’t hike because it’s hard work; I don’t dance because I sweat; I don’t draw because I never got past drawing cars – a little box attached to a larger box with two circles for wheels (side view, I know a car has four wheels). I don’t climb sand dunes, because I don’t like sand in my shoes; I don’t open the sun roof because I don’t like wind. I don’t eat shrimp because they stink, and I don’t eat oysters because they are slimy.

Well, by now you know what a hypocrite I was when I bragged about my being an adventurous hip “Why not” person.

Now I’ll tell you, Why Not? Because I don’t like being laughed at, I don’t like sun, sand, wind, or water. I don’t like icky, slimy, or stinky; I don’t like hurts, pain, failure. And I don’t like sweat. So, that’s Why Not!

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About oneta hayes

ABOUT ME
Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...

Methinks she doth protest too much — that’s what I think! It’s a fun piece of writing, but I’ll bet you’re much smarter and more adventurous than you suggest here. On the other hand, most of the things you list here certainly do fall into the realm of preference, and if you prefer not? Why not!

shoreacres, I just got on a roll and couldn’t get off. Really there is a lot left to like, for instance, writing, and writing again, and writing some more, then some re-writing. I’d better stop it. I’m about to roll again!

Hi, Jackie. I went over to visit your blog. Found that we are related – both daughters of the King. Isn’t that a wonderful Family Unit. Thanks for the comment on “That’s Why Not”. I had fun on that line of thought. Take all those things out of my life and I still have a bundle to live for! Nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.

I want to pay tribute to wonderful people I have known, the wonderful country in which I live, the communities in which I have lived, the churches who have claimed me as their own, the God who sends shivers down my back when I really give him a portion of my time—well, maybe not shivers but tears flow easily in some of those most priceless times.

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Oneta Hayes

Hello. To various folks I am Neat’ne, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins.